


funeral

by mysteryguest



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: HC - Demise, Hermitcraft - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Lowercase, M/M, Multi, demise - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteryguest/pseuds/mysteryguest
Summary: mumbo and iskall knew how reckless grian could be. they knew it from the very beginning of the season, when the three of them had first met- grian was a troublemaker, and that much was crystal clear.they knew grian would demise eventually. they thought they were prepared, thought it wouldn't impact them so much.and yet, here they were, crying over the grave he was supposed to crawl out of dramatically.
Relationships: Grian/Mumbo Jumbo, Iskall85/Grian, Mumbo Jumbo/Iskall85/Grian, Polytechs, iskall85/mumbo jumbo
Comments: 13
Kudos: 186





	1. good end

**Author's Note:**

> ~ note ~
> 
> if you do not approve of, or if you, in general, disapprove of shipping, please do not read. i also do not want any negative comments on any of my works.  
> all portrayals of the hermits in this story are solely of their minecraft characters, not them as real people.
> 
> thank you for reading.

\---

the sky lay dark, crying and leaving its tears to fall upon the ground, and thus upon the graves that lay before mumbo and iskall. though, only one of the two graves still lay occupied, the other vacant- its host having left a long while ago.

no, the grave before them was of much more importance. it was the grave of the two's boyfriend, a chaotic, cunning, destructive and giggly man by the name of grian.

now, grian was indeed the one who had started this game. was the one who built up the foundation for such a dark game to take place- the game of demise.

the rules were simple: the last to survive wins the diamonds. once you die, you die for good, and come back on the opposite team to help demise other alive contestants in monochromatic fashion.

and now nearly half the server was demised, their greyscale selves wandering around the world, laying traps in their wake. ren had assumed the position of the grim reaper, opting to make deals with the living and collect the souls of those who had demised. who _will_ demise.

if the two of them were honest with themselves, they never liked the idea of the game of demise. it was too dangerous, too risky... performing some sort of glitch to have the Void recognize you as being in a place between survival and hardcore?

it was terribly, terribly dangerous. but grian swore countless times that xisuma could fix it if anything went wrong. and, of course, mumbo and iskall trusted in grian, trusted that he was telling the truth.

but now... now they were starting to doubt having trusted in grian, just for that certain moment.

one hour.

it had been one hour since grian demised, since he was lowered in his grave with the fork of friendship and a bundle of rockets, and he had still not come out yet. the grave was already dug out, thanks to iskall, and he was still fully colorful, though his skin was pale and grey-ish; his body heavy and unmoving.

he did not look demised.

he looked _dead_.

"iskall," mumbo murmured, sniffling as his hand squeezed around iskall's. "it's been an hour. we- we should get xisuma."

"no, it's... it's fine, it's just taking a while, that's all!" iskall choked, rubbing his eye. "grian's not _that_ reckless, he knows what he's doing..."

"iskall..." mumbo began, leaning into iskall for a hug. "give it up, he's d-"

iskall inhaled sharply, holding back a sob.

"he's such an idiot," iskall cried, holding onto mumbo tightly. "stupid red sweater, stupid curly hair, stupid cute face..."

the two of them stayed there for a good fifteen minutes more, crying and latched onto each other in a tight and comforting hug. neither wanted to make a move away from the grave in front of them, though both heads were turned away from the body inside it.

all was quiet, except for the soft cries and sniffles of the two.

and, loudly and suddenly, ren (or rather grim, as he went by during the game of demise) stormed into the dragon bunker frantically, tripping over his own feet and rushing in front of grian's grave.

"i'm- what..." he breathed, eyes wide and disbelieving as he began to choke up. "xisuma said grian was in hardcore for some reason but... i didn't... what..."

iskall and mumbo stepped back, eyes wide and confused. grim looked back at them, looking choked.

"i'm... what happened? why isn't he waking up yet?" he asked, tearing up.

"we don't-" mumbo began, before wiping his eyes and clearing his throat. "we don't know. we've been waiting for an hour for him to... t-to..." he inhaled sharply, wiping at his eyes frantically once more.

"xisuma's on his way though, right? he can fix it?" iskall inquired hopefully.

blinking his shock, and tears, away, grim nodded swiftly.

"yeah, yeah- xisuma's coming as fast as he can. he should be here soon, i-i only got here before him 'cause i was closeby. i'm..." his voice drifted off, as he glanced back at grian's unmoving body once more. "i don't think we should continue demise after this, dudes."

"me neither." iskall agreed quietly, shaking his head slowly. his dragon tail and wings that came with being apart of the 'dragon bros' drooped sadly across the floor.

mumbo grasped onto iskall's hand once more, leaning into him comfortingly. xisuma would get here soon. soon...

not a minute later, xisuma sprinted down the stairs of the bunker, skidding in front of the grave they were all gathered around. cursing silently, he ripped out his communicator, quickly typing in a command.

"...i don't know if this will work," xisuma whispered after a few tense seconds of waiting for the command to be entered.

"what...?" mumbo croaked, his eyes widening and tearing up painfully.

"but- you- grian said you'd be able to fix anything that went wrong!" iskall yelled, his voice shaky. "he wouldn't- why would he... lie about that?"

grim stayed silent, hands gripping tightly onto his scythe, his head lowered and covered by the hood of his cloak.

"i told him i would _most likely_ be able to. i told him it was dangerous still, i _told_ him." xisuma sighed, gripping onto the edges of his communicator. "just... hope for the best. if not, he'll... he'll be in another world somewhere... meet new people, new-"

"shut up- just-!" iskall sobbed, rubbing his eye angrily. "just enter the command!"

startled, xisuma seemed to snap out of a daze, hastily pressing the enter key on the communicator. all eyes snapped towards grian's body, waiting for something- _anything_ \- that would give away the outcome of the situation.

the room was dead quite for a few seconds, which then turned to a few minutes. mumbo began to cry silently once more, iskall buried his head in his hands, grim sunk to the floor, and xisuma lowered his head in sadness.

and then,

a cough.

a series of coughs, actually- gasping and hacking, desperate coughing.

all rushed forward to the edge of the grave, peering inside hectically. inside, grian was- well, not _alive_ , but not dead anymore either. his skin and outfit was monochromatic and grey, and he grasped his head like he had a headache.

"eugh... wha... wha' happened again? did i demise already...?" he groaned, cracking open his eyes exhaustively as he sat up in his tomb.

crying out in a sob, iskall and mumbo lurched forward into the grave, hugging onto grian like he was a lifeline.

"woah! h-hey, why're you crying?" grian asked with worry, to which his response was, in fact, more crying. and a little bit of angry, non-threatening punches to the chest, thanks to iskall.

"oh thank god," xisuma breathed in relief, grim mimicking him as well. "i-i'm not sure i wanna let this demise game continue, grian." he added in a louder, worried voice.

"wuh? why not? we were all having fun!" grian said, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "seriously though, why are you guys crying?" he asked quietly, his narrowed eyes looking down in worry at his boyfriends.

"grian, dude..." grim began, leaning on his scythe, his face matching his alias. "you... you _died_. and i don't mean you demised. i mean you seriously, wholly, _died_ for a minute there, man. xisuma might not have been able to... to bring you back."

grian was silent, before sighing, hugging onto mumbo and iskall tightly.

"i'm so sorry," he croaked, not talking to anyone specifically. "i dunno why i started this game... i should've at least made more careful rules for it. i'm sorry- i'm-"

"grian." xisuma said softly. "don't blame yourself. but, maybe we could opt for a safer version of the game? still keep respawning on and just... have you wear grey clothes when you demise." he offered, smiling beneath his helmet. "it _is_ a very creative game, after all. i'd hate to cancel it completely halfway through."

grian laughed silently, rubbing at his eyes, and burying his head into iskall's chest as mumbo's arms wrapped around the both of them.

"yeah," he answered, his voice slightly muffled. "that... that sounds good."

even after grim and xisuma left the bunker, and the server was swept in alarm by grian's almost-passing, the three of them laid against each other in comfort, vowing silently to keep themselves and each other safe at all costs.

even if, technically, grian was on an opposite team as them now. but, hey!

once a dragon, always a dragon... even if in secret.

\---


	2. bad end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what if the command did not work?

\---

the sky lay dark, crying and leaving its tears to fall upon the ground, and thus upon the graves that lay before mumbo and iskall. though, only one of the two graves still lay occupied, the other vacant- its host having left a long while ago.

no, the grave before them was of much more importance. it was the grave of the two's boyfriend, a chaotic, cunning, destructive and giggly man by the name of grian.

now, grian was indeed the one who had started this game. was the one who built up the foundation for such a dark game to take place- the game of demise.

the rules were simple: the last to survive wins the diamonds. once you die, you die for good, and come back on the opposite team to help demise other alive contestants in monochromatic fashion.

and now nearly half the server was demised, their greyscale selves wandering around the world, laying traps in their wake. ren had assumed the position of the grim reaper, opting to make deals with the living and collect the souls of those who had demised. who _will_ demise.

if the two of them were honest with themselves, they never liked the idea of the game of demise. it was too dangerous, too risky... performing some sort of glitch to have the Void recognize you as being in a place between survival and hardcore?

it was terribly, terribly dangerous. but grian swore countless times that xisuma could fix it if anything went wrong. and, of course, mumbo and iskall trusted in grian, trusted that he was telling the truth.

but now... now they were starting to doubt having trusted in grian, just for that certain moment.

one hour.

it had been one hour since grian demised, since he was lowered in his grave with the fork of friendship and a bundle of rockets, and he had still not come out yet. the grave was already dug out, thanks to iskall, and he was still fully colorful, though his skin was pale and grey-ish; his body heavy and unmoving.

he did not look demised.

he looked _dead_.

"iskall," mumbo murmured, sniffling as his hand squeezed around iskall's. "it's been an hour. we- we should get xisuma."

"no, it's... it's fine, it's just taking a while, that's all!" iskall choked, rubbing his eye. "grian's not _that_ reckless, he knows what he's doing..."

"iskall..." mumbo began, leaning into iskall for a hug. "give it up, he's d-"

iskall inhaled sharply, holding back a sob.

"he's such an idiot," iskall cried, holding onto mumbo tightly. "stupid red sweater, stupid curly hair, stupid cute face..."

the two of them stayed there for a good fifteen minutes more, crying and latched onto each other in a tight and comforting hug. neither wanted to make a move away from the grave in front of them, though both heads were turned away from the body inside it.

all was quiet, except for the soft cries and sniffles of the two.

and, loudly and suddenly, ren (or rather grim, as he went by during the game of demise) stormed into the dragon bunker frantically, tripping over his own feet and rushing in front of grian's grave.

"i'm- what..." he breathed, eyes wide and disbelieving as he began to choke up. "xisuma said grian was in hardcore for some reason but... i didn't... what..."

iskall and mumbo stepped back, eyes wide and confused. grim looked back at them, looking choked.

"i'm... what happened? why isn't he waking up yet?" he asked, tearing up.

"we don't-" mumbo began, before wiping his eyes and clearing his throat. "we don't know. we've been waiting for an hour for him to... t-to..." he inhaled sharply, wiping at his eyes frantically once more.

"xisuma's on his way though, right? he can fix it?" iskall inquired hopefully.

blinking his shock, and tears, away, grim nodded swiftly.

"yeah, yeah- xisuma's coming as fast as he can. he should be here soon, i-i only got here before him 'cause i was closeby. i'm..." his voice drifted off, as he glanced back at grian's unmoving body once more. "i don't think we should continue demise after this, dudes."

"me neither." iskall agreed quietly, shaking his head slowly. his dragon tail and wings that came with being apart of the 'dragon bros' drooped sadly across the floor.

mumbo grasped onto iskall's hand once more, leaning into him comfortingly. xisuma would get here soon. soon...

not a minute later, xisuma sprinted down the stairs of the bunker, skidding in front of the grave they were all gathered around. cursing silently, he ripped out his communicator, quickly typing in a command.

"...i don't know if this will work," xisuma whispered after a few tense seconds of waiting for the command to be entered.

"what...?" mumbo croaked, his eyes widening and tearing up painfully.

"but- you- grian said you'd be able to fix anything that went wrong!" iskall yelled, his voice shaky. "he wouldn't- why would he... lie about that?"

grim stayed silent, hands gripping tightly onto his scythe, his head lowered and covered by the hood of his cloak.

"i told him i would _most likely_ be able to. i told him it was dangerous still, i _told_ him." xisuma sighed, gripping onto the edges of his communicator. "just... hope for the best. if not, he'll... he'll be in another world somewhere... meet new people, new-"

"shut up- just-!" iskall sobbed, rubbing his eye angrily. "just enter the command!"

startled, xisuma seemed to snap out of a daze, hastily pressing the enter key on the communicator. all eyes snapped towards grian's body, waiting for something- _anything_ \- that would give away the outcome of the situation.

the room was dead quite for a few seconds, which then turned to a few minutes. mumbo began to cry silently once more, iskall buried his head in his hands, grim sunk to the floor, and xisuma lowered his head in sadness.

and then,

a cry.

xisuma, the admin of the server, began to cry.

"the command," he choked, the communicator falling to the ground with a loud crack."it-it didn't work. it says th-the us-user isn't... isn't in the world-" he cried, sinking lower to the floor.

iskall let out a loud sob, not bothering to wipe away the tears this time. he sunk to the floor, shaking and huddled in on himself. mumbo stayed silent, tears refusing to leak from his eyes before he let out a wail, covering his face as he began to cry loudly, muffling his own cries of anguish.

grim stood up and stumbled away, trying to ignore the fact that his face was covered in salty tears, leaving his scythe behind.

how did a playful, silly game end up so horribly? why did something have to go wrong...?

why, why, why...

iskall and mumbo held onto each other like a lifeline, not bothering with the fact that their clothes were being soaked by each other's tears. all they could worry about was how they would continue... how would they be able to cope with grian's passing?

grian was _dead_. he was in another world now, with no memory of anyone from this one. he'd forget about the times he spent with iskall and mumbo, he'd forget them all confessing to each other awkwardly in the infinity room beneath Sahara, he'd forget all about them...

this was all just supposed to be a game.

just a game...

xisuma left mumbo and iskall to themselves, not wanting to get in the way of their mourning. shakily, he pulled up his communicator, and solemnly typed out the words he never wanted to think about typing, or saying, or even _thinking_.

> | **Xisumavoid:** Grian is dead. Perma-death.
> 
> | **Xisumavoid** : We'll hold a funeral tomorrow.

\---


End file.
